Dusk to Dawn
by drinktea
Summary: Answer to IcedOverFire's challenge. "You just came to me, like a lightning bolt. I was struck when I saw you, and I just couldn't look away." Dark x Riku.
1. Riku

_Disclaimer: DN Angel goes to Sugisaki, Twilight goes to Stephenie Meyer._

Author natterings: Okay, so this is an answer to IcedOverFire's challenge, though I have a feeling that it will develop into something bigger. There are more chapters to come, so more of the challenge guidelines will be fulfilled. If you've read _Twilight_, it's pretty easy to guess whose roles I've chosen to fill with Riku and Dark. For those who haven't read _Twilight_, I've gone over what a Meyer vampire is like, so you won't be lost (I'm hoping). So, without further ado...

-

DUSK TO DAWN

In... out. In... out. Slowly, I drew breath into my lungs, then let it out again.

I was lying in something. Something that smelt terribly of... garbage. Something... wet.

I leapt up, nearly shrieking with the realization that I was sitting in someone else's waste. That was seriously sick. I had to find a shower. And now.

The muscles in my legs bunched as I leapt from the river of sewage up and onto the ladder twenty feet away. The action felt odd, as if I had never performed it before, and I nearly fell from the rungs. But my hands flicked out quickly, and I caught myself. Apparently, I had good reflexes.

I climbed. Up, up, up and pushed aside the heavy metal grate that blocked entry onto the street. Then I looked for the nearest place with a shower.

Lights shone from windows into the dark streets. Houses. Those would have showers, right? I just had to find an empty one, commandeer the shower in the family's absence, then slip out after. Easy peesy.

Fifteen minutes later, I was smelling fresh as a rose and looking a little nicer too, having discarded my old rags and swiped a fresh change of clothes. The girl wouldn't be missing them, she had easily over fifty shirts and pants. Still, I felt a little bad as I took them from her closet.

Now, to nail down some more important things.

One. My name was Riku. Two. I was... 19.

I thought a little harder.

Oh, come on, I had to have more info somewhere in this head of mine! A family? A home I grew up in?

I caught a glimpse of a woman and man walking arm in arm.

A boyfriend! Did I have a boyfriend?

I grasped, my memory at its limit. Odd. Odd that I should not know enough about myself to answer this very easy question.

Suddenly, my vision tilted and I stumbled onto the cobblestone, my palms hitting the ground with the sound two rocks make when hit together. I would have stood up, but something played across my senses...

A vision. A pale, handsome man. A beautiful woman at his side. A boy, girl, another boy, all equally beautiful, all standing together. Their eyes were gold. They stood in a forest, and it grew thick and dark behind them. The shoulders of their shirts were soaked, something I noticed right away. And the strangest thing of all - I felt drawn to them, a visceral connection, a shift.

And then they were gone, my vision melted away.

"Hello? Excuse me, miss?"

I looked up. I was still seated on the ground.

"Are you alright?" asked the man I had seen before. His girlfriend clamped his elbow, shielded behind him.

"I'm fine," I answered. I stood up, feeling a bit lightheaded at the speed at which I got up. When I snapped to attention, the pair of them had just blinked away surprise.

"Alright, then," said the man. "You have a good night, miss."

"You, too," I smiled in thanks.

Again, they both physically stuttered. Was something in my teeth? But before I could ask, they scurried away.

No matter. I had something to do now. I knew of no home I could return to, and no one I could stay with.

My mind had made itself up - I'd find them. That stunning group of people. Maybe they'd have some answers.

-

Three. I was a vampire.

Waking in the sewer was my very first real memory. But my body - my muscle memory - remembered a little better than my brain. First, there was the ladder. My body was not used to that, but I had paid little mind, brushing it off. Second, my palms didn't scrape a bit from my fall. Third, the fluid in my ears wasn't up to how fast I moved, even if the pace seemed regular.

I had been a human. Slower, softer, weaker. This was a disconcerting conclusion to come to, seeing as how I assumed I _was_ a human. But I had no memories to attach me to my human life, so it seemed like not too much to give up.

The man and woman from that night had been surprised at my speed, at my beauty. I knew immediately that these gifts were to be utilized by the average vampire to hunt humans. But I wouldn't be using these gifts. Not for these means, anyway. The vulgarity to which I would have to stoop... the thought made my mind churn with disgust. I may not have known much about myself, but I still had my principles, my basic emotions. Everytime I felt hunger, I pictured that man and that woman, hand in hand. I couldn't take one away from the other. I couldn't live with myself if I were to cause anyone a pain as deep as the loss of a loved one. Even if I had no attachment to any living being, it just made me feel even sadder to imagine another being living this way. I would not shed the blood of a human if I could help it.

The visions came regularly now. In one, I saw a solution.

It was the group - of vampires, I now realized - hunting. But they weren't chasing humans, terrorizing them or the like. They were hunting animals. Deer, cougars, bears. So I did the same.

I had fed a little less than an hour ago, still heading northwest as I'd decided. After a few minutes, I concluded that the wet shoulders of the family had to be because of rain. So I ruled out the south, left Mississippi, and headed west, passing through every library across the country. I read up on topography and climate in every state. I filled my life with information, because I had so little of it to start with.

I read everything. Legends, myths, fables. Adventure, fantasy, science fiction, mystery, non-fiction, realistic fiction. I steered clear of romance. A bad run-in with a trashy paperback scared me off of that genre. But I continued my pursuit of knowledge. I read up on Canada, Brazil, India, Zimbabwe, China.

For a reason I didn't know, I had visions, a second sight, you could say. (They no longer made me fall over from dizziness, as they had that first night.) They weren't always of something important - I mostly foresaw the weather, for example. But sometimes, I got something amazing or helpful or both. I foresaw a lunar eclipse, due tonight. I foresaw a little boy slipping on a patch of ice, and so, got there just in time to catch him midfall. I saw the stock market doing abominably in the 1930's, and so held off on any investments.

Which came to the matter of money. I knew that as a vampire I could effectively ignore the human world, live ferally, a ghost in their lives. But I found it terribly lonely. After a dry spell of human company, the smallest greeting, the smallest flicker of acknowledgement, lifted my spirits. My decision was practically made for me. Live among them.

It was hard. I had to feed frequently - every other night - to not feel thirsty. Otherwise, the slightest whiff of blood would drive me near to insanity. The strength of my thirst in times like these honestly scared me, that something so base and carnal could control me. But I was determined. And if anything could beat out my thirst, it was my conviction.

So I worked alongside humans. Mostly night shifts, as I discovered that my skin shone fiercely when struck by sunlight, a very noticeable difference between me and regular humans. I worked mostly in taverns or dance clubs as a waitress, where my beauty bagged me the job before I knew it. I touched down for no more than two months, but in every place I felt the nighttime culture enfold me. It was the 1920's, and America was an economic powerhouse. Everyone was out looking for a good time, and the places I worked earned hundreds by the end of the night.

I opened a bank account, under the name of Alice Greene, and easily obtained I.D. to match. Whatever I couldn't find, I forged. It wasn't hard. With my book knowledge, I knew security details that most didn't. All this, I did in the case that I should need to flee. Living my life this way, it was safer for others that they didn't know my real name. Still, I longed for a companion.

Life as a nomad suited me. Being by myself felt natural, and I supposed that I had been independent in my life as a human. Still, every human needs social stimulation of some kind, and I felt the same. My work as a waitress provided that. For sure.

"Hey, pretty thang, care fer a shot?"

I turned, an armful of trays and glasses in my arms. A drunk patron.

"No, thank you, sir. Can't be tipsy on the job, sir." He hardly deserved the title, but I figured it best to be polite.

"Heh, can't be dropping those glasses, eh? Well, ya lemme know if ya change yer mind."

"Yes, sir," I said, then turned and headed into the kitchen. He was, I knew, staring at my behind.

"Alice!" exclaimed Bette, my coworker. She was in her early 30's, plump and blonde, a striking contrast to me, dark-haired and thin. "Dear girl, give me some of those! You'll right drop 'em, you little thing."

I didn't tell her that I could carry thirty times the load and not feel anything. Being a vampire required some restraint. "Oh, Bette, you're sweet."

Bette unloaded the bulk of my dishes into the sink, then turned back to me. "Not as sweet as you, my dear. Seems a lot of gentlemen ask after you 'round here." She winked.

I just scowled. She laughed.

"Really though, have you considered any of 'em? You're young and beautiful. Right age to be marryin'."

"Bette, you bring this up every night," I laughed. "I'm just earning money for school. No time for a boy." While a lie for now, this could very well become the truth down the road. I wanted to go to university.

A devious sparkle lit in her eyes. "Maybe not a boy. But do you have the time for a _man_? I think so!" And her laughed filled the room. She was such a good spirit, I laughed along.

-

The night was a success, and the owner, a good man named Kosuke, gave all of us our tips plus a bonus. "For your good work!" he smiled. "See you tomorrow night."

So that was that. I was heading home with a healthy amount of money, which I would deposit into my bank account tomorrow morning, and let it collect interest.

My heels clacked on the sidewalk. My walking home at night always worried the better of my coworkers, but I knew there was no need for fear. I could incapicitate any attacker. It wasn't until I had hunted that I realized how strong I truly was. A slight squeeze of my fist and I could collapse the vertebrae of a bear's neck. Perversely, I sometimes wished for an attacker just so I could know it wasn't only me out here, all alone.

I looked up at the sky. Lately, the loneliness had begun to nag. Instead of a fleeting thought, it sat contantly in the pit of my stomach, the first thing I thought about when I had a free moment. It had been two years since I had awoke in the sewer, and I felt no closer to finding the family in my visions. The past two years wasn't a complete waste, of course. I had been learning so much, reading around the clock (vampires, I discovered, don't need sleep). My self-control over my thirst was a thousand-fold better than when I started. I was earning money, should I ever need it. Still, I felt a bit unbalanced, like something was missing.

Through the fog of my thoughts, my eyes registered the eclipse occuring. I had never seen one before, or at least I didn't remember having seen one before. I stopped walking and watched the moon slowly fall behind the earth's shadow.

It came when the moon had fallen into the dark completely.

A vision. A man, quite tall, delivering a fierce kick to another man, presumedly an opponent. Around them, three more fights of similar nature. The fighting was fierce, more frightening than usual. It looked almost to be a war. Yet, there were no weapons.

My attention caught on the man again. He was standing still now, concentrating hard on something I couldn't see. In my mind's eye, something distinct was niggling at me. Something about him. But when I saw his face, I knew. In an instant.

He was a vampire.


	2. Dark

_Disclaimer: DN Angel goes to Sugisaki, Twilight goes to Stephenie Meyer._

Author natterings: Ack, sorry for the wait! It's been a challenge trying to fit Riku and Dark into Alice and Jasper's roles. Though the challenge does say to replace a _Twilight_ character with a _D N Angel_ character, I'm still trying to carve out Dark and Riku's personalities within the _Twilight_ story. Luckily, I'm writing a kind of prologue to _Twilight_, so I can take some liberties! Enjoy!

-

DUSK TO DAWN

I sat atop an old supply crate, its feeble planks barely holding my weight. We had just taken the base, advancing farther south than anyone expected. Most of all, me.

Never had I imagined that Maria would venture so deep into this territory. This was Nigel's territory, and it had been for decades. He was even our ally at one time, perhaps at the turn of the century, 1899 or somesuch. We had advanced on Cooper from one side, he on the other. We had driven Cooper's coven out easily.

But clearly, this meant nothing to Maria anymore. I supposed a lot could happen in the thirty odd years that we had combined our forces. But I knew that our former alliance likely had little to do with this takeover.

Maria was power-hungry. In the seventy years I knew her, her thoughts became more sinister, more wrapped up with the politics and takeovers of the South. Before, I had feared, maybe even admired, her ambition. Now I was disgusted with it. I knew my own emotions well enough that I could not lie to myself. I could not go on this way.

"Dark," came a voice. One of the newborns, about 6 months old. Horace. He had a special power: teleportation. In his human life he was a track star on the edge of a glittering career. Then Maria attacked his escort car and killed his driver. She had saved him. His talent in his human life - speed - had now augmented itself into teleportation.

Now, Horace teleported over to where I sat, seating himself beside me. "Dark? What're you thinking?"

I shifted my gaze to him. He was feeling anxious, thirsty. I tried my best to alleviate that, calming him down physically. Where Horace had teleportation, I could pick out the flavour of others' thoughts and feelings, and manipulate them.

He chuckled. "I know you're using your spiffy powers, Dark. Won't help. I'm still aching for some refreshment."

I shrugged. "Did my best."

Horace laughed good-naturedly. "What do you make of the latest takeover? Great, no?"

"You were great, Horace," I said, knowing he was fishing for compliments. It was true - he was a brilliant fighter, and his skill was truly deadly in combat. I was glad he was on our side.

"Well, thanks, Dark. Weren't too shabby out there yourself," he joked. I had fought for seventy years - of course he was joking.

My fighting instincts were honed perfectly. I could deliver deadly blows to any part of the body, and in a variety of ways. I was a seasoned strategist. I could even tell when attackers were approaching, thanks to my ability. Yes, I was a fighting legend. Feared, respected, envied. Once, I had taken pride in my accomplishments. But these titles hardly mattered anymore.

The truth was that I was tiring of this lifestyle. Every day I woke to the same thing - another battle, another advancement. On the battlefield, bonds were brittle, even among our own. Especially among our own.

Maria asked that I dispose of the newborns after a year, so none who fought with us fought with us for long. Newborn vampires were desired only for their brute strength, and not for their skill. In fact, it was surprising at all that Horace could use his skill so effectively. The year-old mark was when the strength of the newborn vampire waned, and after this they simply became a burden. When these vampires were no longer of any use to her, Maria would simply find more humans to transform into her army. "New blood for you," she'd cackle, reffering to the new vampires that became my trainees. New blood? I wasn't so sure.

Few of us knew exactly what it was that made a newborn so strong, but I had my speculations. When a human was changed into a vampire, they still possessed all their own blood from their human life. I believed that it was in fact, their own blood - their _old_ blood - that made them so strong. And their strength faded as ther own blood left their systems for the blood of their victims. I had seen the process many, many times. This was what I believed.

"Dark!" called a voice. A voice I would know anywhere.

"Maria," I replied, my voice a calm tenor to her snapping soprano.

"Dark, we have another base to take. Nigel's foolhardy vamplets have charged the boundary." Maria often reffered to newborns as "vamplets".

"So why take the next base? Why not just defend the boundary?"

"We have to show them that we are here to stay!" she exclaimed. "There are six of them. Now go. I'm going to train the latest batch."

"Yes, ma'am," I muttered, looking vacantly over her head. I was much taller than her, a 6'3" tree next to a bush.

She tossed a mistrusting glance at me, then swept into the back tunnel.

She tried to be careful, since she knew of my abilities to read her emotions, but it still slipped. Lately, her feelings shifted towards jealousy and malice around me. I theorized that she'd been thinking of doing away with me, fearing how strong I'd become. She thought I may lead a coup against her, using some newborns. This, I suspected, was why she spent more time with the newborns now than before. To gain loyalty. Once, over half of the newborns answered to me.

What she didn't know was that my brooding silences were not plans to overthrow her, but plans to abandon this life altogether. Some time earlier down the line, I'd felt it before - a sense of urgency to leave this place. But I'd stayed, reasoning that Maria was my creator, and I, her greatest warrior.

But the feeling persisted. In battle, when I struck down an opponent, they felt an overwhelming sense of hate and anger. When I killed them for good - intense misery and despair. As attuned as I was to the emotions of everyone, I could not ignore these negative emotions, the way they permeated the air. Though I knew none of these emotions were directed at me personally, after seventy years, they had finally taken their toll on me.

"Come, Horace. We'll need you," I commanded.

"Yes, Dark."

I paced down the tunnel leading to the front lines, Horace on my tail. In the tunnel, we found Candace and Charlotte. Though they had no special abilities, unlike Horace and I, they were formidable for newborns. Females, I found, were better able to control themselves in a fight. I quickly formed a strategy to take the neighbouring base with only the four of us, myself shouldering most of the work, of course.

"Alright, Charlotte, you and I will strike first. Candace, you come in after I push through. Horace, you teleport behind the lines. Take their front guard out. I'll come to assist you and take out the backup and rear guard." Though the forces sounded formidable, they were in actuality very small. I could easily take on four newborns at once.

Newborns had no fighting style. They were terribly predictable, and though up to ten times as strong as an aged vampire, a skilled fighter could decimate several.

"Come now, Major Mousy," beckoned Candace. "You got your lighter?" She winked at me. Flirt.

I followed the three down the remainder of the tunnel and onto the front. Two of our newborns were holding off two of Nigel's. I barely registered the crunch of someone's arm. It fell to the ground, twitching. Horace teleported over, set it alight before it could reattach, then teleported back over.

"Stick to your own fight, Horace!" snarled Matthew, one of ours. The vampire he was battling took advantage of the distraction and clubbed Matt with his remaining arm.

Not our fight. We ran, using our ferocious speed, to the next base. There were, indeed, six.

Charlotte and I sprinted forward, spearheading the attack.

-

I had once known a Charlotte. A different Charlotte, mind you. I hadn't been interested in her, that's not why I remembered. I remembered her for another reason.

Nearly five years ago, this Charlotte had been part of our fighting force as well. She had just passed the year mark, her strength waning. Maria issued commands down to Daisuke and I to dispose of all the older newborns, as they were no longer assets.

I liked Daisuke. He was a skilled fighter, agile and deceptively strong, though his distaste for fighting was clear. He had once been a newborn, fighting under Maria and I, but he was three now, a clever one to survive past the year mark. We often found opportunities to work together, as he was a good fighter and I could join him in his babysitting. He watched the newborns, made sure that their volatile natures did not result in skirmishes within our own forces.

He got too close to one. Charlotte. I had no clue until Maria gave the command. That night, we were to rid our forces of the weakening newborns.

He snapped. I called her aside with the intention of doing away with her, and his anxiety spiked, he was flooded with desperation and love. In the sea of hate that I lived in, his love for her, and her for him, shone like a beacon to me.

I let them go. I wondered to this day where they went.

-

"Come on, Major," she wheedled. "Why don't you just kiss me a little?"

Candace. Silly Candace, turned vampire at 17, young and hormonal, sat on my lap. It was a bit odd, considering I was technically 90, though my body was 20.

"Candace..." I sighed.

"Come on, Dark. You know I could pin you down if I really wanted."

I had to chuckle at that. I smirked. "Well, I'd gladly invite you to, if I didn't know that I could unpin myself."

Her eyes sparked. A challenge.

I acted a split second before she could. As she made to grab my wrists, I grabbed hers instead, then landed firmly on top of her.

"Damn you," she smiled, squirming with pleasure. "Kiss me."

I said nothing, righted myself, then extended my hand. She took it. As she stood, I kissed her fingers. "Goodnight, Candace."

She smiled, recognizing that I had won this battle. She walked slowly out of the room, stopping to flutter her eyelashes at me, then turned the corner.

Once she was gone - "What is it?"

"You're still good," came a voice. Then the interloper, whom I had sensed entering a minute ago, stepped out of his hiding place.

I couldn't believe it.

"Daisuke," I said, surprise sliding into my tones. "You're back."

"Not for good, Dark," he said, stepping forward and pulling the hood of a cloak down. "I came back because I remembered the kindness you showed us that night. Charlotte and I are grateful."

I nodded, to acknowledge all of that. But I couldn't hedge my curiosity. "It's been so long. Why come all that way?" Our voices had lowered to quick whispers, imperceptible to the human ear, and not easily detected by vampires.

"You know we fled the warzone. It's a different life up north, Dark. Charlotte and I... we travel together. We were just in Oklahoma, and we thought of you. God, I never would have imagined Maria would take you this far south. I barely followed your scent here."

I'd forgotten about his marvelous tracking skills. Still, I didn't see why he'd come... "Well, it was good of you to think of me--"

"Dark, we want you to come with us," Daisuke interrupted eagerly. "Please, consider it. I remember you were tiring of the fight, and Charlotte and I have found a good life. A peaceful one," he emphasized. "You can travel with us."

I stuttered. Leave now? I had thought of it for so long, but never did I imagine the oppotunity would come knocking on my door. The idea was so appealing, to put the kilometers between myself and this sea of hatred.

But war was the only life I had ever known. Even as a young human I was in the army, a Major at the age of seventeen. I--

I looked at Daisuke. His relaxed thoughts, his emotions, honest and serene. Everyone here moved because of bloodlust, vengeance or fear. Once again, he was affecting me, only this time, it wouldn't be me standing alone, watching someone go.

I wasn't leaving anything behind here. I would be turning my back on a whole other life if I said no.

So I said yes, and left the South without a backward glance.


	3. Philadelphia

_Disclaimer: DN Angel goes to Sugisaki, Twilight goes to Stephenie Meyer._

Author natterings: Hi, so sorry for the wait. I'm not sure if anyone has bothered to keep up with this, but I'll keep posting chapters anyway. This one's a Riku POV.

-

DUSK TO DAWN

-

"Alice? Dear, it's nearly closing time."

I looked up from the copy of _A History of the Advancement of Medicine_ propped up on my knees, up to where Sarah, the librarian, stood. "Alright, Sarah. Thank you. Could I check this out?"

She clucked her tongue good-naturedly, plucking the hardcover from my fingers, holding my place with the pencil she always had tucked behind her ear. I got up from my spot on the carpet and walked next to her.

"Do you really think that they'll find a cure for polio, Sarah?" I asked, looking seriously ahead. Though my visions had become more powerful and focused over the years, I could not forsee this treatment yet.

"I think they will," she answered. Where most people would say "I don't know" or "Maybe", Sarah always gave me a more concrete answer, and I loved her for it. "I can't imagine how you haven't seen it already, though."

I grinned at her. Sarah was one of the few vampires I had come into contact with in my travels, and the only other who had chosen to live among humans as well. Only she knew of my visions thus far. It was a comfort to be able to confide in her - her motherly tendencies sometimes had her tilting her head at me fondly, or clucking after the mess I left in fiction A-G.

She stamped the date on the back cover of the book, then initialed it in validation. "Due back in a week," she said.

"Goodnight, Sarah," I sung, then stepped outside, the book clutched to my chest like a jewel.

Only when I stepped out from under the awning did I realize it was misting. I covered the book with one flap of my jacket.

It was 1939, and wars were happening everywhere. Civil and international, all over the globe. America had declared itself neutral in the war overseas, and so it seemed like there wasn't even a war happening. But there was. My inital reaction was that it was selfish to keep to overselves when we had an army. But practicality made its way into my thoughts, and I saw certain things. For example, our fighting machines were archaic in comparison to the European fleets. And our economy wasn't fully recovered yet - I wasn't sure it could stand up to a war.

I pushed through the doors of the diner known as _The Last Chance_, a place I frequented lately. Everyone had come to know me by name. Or at least by my proxy-name.

"Alice! What're you doing, stopping in so late?" exclaimed Faye from her position behind the counter. "Not that you aren't welcome, of course."

"Just passing by," I smiled, drawing the book out from under my coat.

"The library _again_? I swear, you scholarly types. I just don't get ya." Now, her smile - her whole face, actually - took on a devious quality. "Thinking you'll meet your man tonight?"

I flushed. Or at least I felt like I did. With vampire skin, you didn't really vary in colour. "Oh, gosh. I'm not sure, Faye."

"He's bound to stop in sometime," she declared, seeming to decide this for me. And for him, for that matter. "And when he does, I'll be sure to recognize him."

"Faye, you haven't even seen him."

"Neither have you!" chortled Faye. "At least not really."

"Yes, well, thank you, Faye. You better keep an eye out," I said, falsely stern. "'Night."

"See you tomorrow." She waved.

As the door shut behind me with the rattle of glass, I felt the teeniest bit tired. Five years I'd combed the country for that place. One year I'd been living here in Philadelphia, having to change my last name from Greene to Brandon before I applied for any jobs. I'd been snapped up by the university as a teaching assistant and was getting paid considerably better than at any waitressing job I'd ever had. And still, still, he hadn't come.

My first vision of him - 18 years ago as the tall fighter - was not the last. In fact, I was peppered with visions of him so often that I began to daydream about him! As if I didn't see him enough.

My next visions of him were equally violent: him setting fire to the remains of a vampire, him decapitating a foe with his bare hands. At this point I had grown tedious of the sights - what relevance did this vampire have to me? Was I to become a part of this war as well?

I could not exactly consult human texts for this information. It wasn't until 7 years after my first vision of him that I got details from a vampire nomad - that there was a territory war in the south, that it had been going on for decades. Vampires fought for the control of the most desely populated land, and thus, the food source that lived on it. Their range was said to extend as high up as Texas and New Mexico, and I shuddered, thinking of my early days, how lucky I was to brush by so close and not be recruited.

So he was a soldier. By then, I'd already had other visions of him, not nearly as violent.

He was lonely. I could not say for sure how far ahead my sight was but I felt sorrow for him all the same, knowing he would experience such pain. It was clear from my visions that he was a top notch fighter, but it seemed that fighting wasn't enough to fill his days, and he sometimes wept, quietly, in the privacy of what seemed to be his room.

My heart - if vampires had them - softened. I became concerned for this stranger, so much so that I had coaxed visions of him out so that I could see him. (I could now control what I wanted to see much better.) His days were up and down. Sometimes, I saw him in a completely different place, but then it'd go right back to him in the warzone, brooding.

Nearly twenty years with my visions had taught me about their reliability. Or, to be more accurate, their unreliability. So long as a person or vampire decided on heading down a path, I could see them on it. But make a different choice, and my vision shifted. So the visions I had of this stranger running free in Kansas or Washington were only true as long as he stuck to his choice. Obviously, something was keeping him in the South.

But then, five years ago, my visions took an abrupt turn. It was a gray day from what I could see of the little twin circle windows of the doors of the diner. I was seated on a tall stool, the plastic seat a sea foam green underneath my bottom. The floor was a solid black, flecked with sparkles of white. But the giveaway, the thing I looked for in every diner I stepped into, was the painting.

I learned that it was called "Brink of Falls Moon River", by Arthur Lismer, a Canadian artist of the Group of Seven. The one that hung in the diner was either a reproduction or a poster, but it was amazing. Completely unlike anything I'd ever seen, in a diner or not. It was that painting that I looked for.

But yes, anyway. Back to my vision. Everything in place. The twin windows, the floor, the painting, me on my stool. And in he walked.

Me. Him. In the exact same place. And I stepped across the room to him, and that was it.

At first, I dismissed this as a short-lived vision, one that would not come to pass.

Clearly, some forces in the universe thought differently. The same vision plagued me, the same weather, the same stool, the same step across the floor to him. As close as I was to him in this vision, I noticed little things: a series of scars, the black of his eyes, his long fingers, more suited to an artist than an assassin.

He was beautiful. And not just in the way that all of our kind were, with exquisite symmetry, pale skin and a dancer's grace. There was something more to him, a look in his eye, wise, intense and knowledgeable. But the sadness was there, too, in the way his head hung, in the slow flutter of his breath. Maybe it was wrong to think, but all of it, culminated in his lean, muscular frame, was incredibly beautiful to me. I knew, then, that I had to find him. That I had these visions at all was amazing - I should not ignore what they were telling me.

I scoured the country for that diner. My former quest - the quest for the family - fell to the wayside. I asked anyone I came into contact with. Finally, a man in Jefferson City on business gave me a lead. He was from Philly, and instantly recognized my description of the green seats and black-and-white floor. He gave me an address and wished me luck.

The plane ticket was astronomical. But I had to get there as quickly as possible. There was no telling when the stranger from my visions would arrive, and I had to be in that diner at every possible moment. Or at least every gray day.

When my trips to the diner had become frequent enough to be noticed, the waitresses and waiters asked why. So I fibbed slightly, telling them that a fortune-teller had predicted that I'd meet a very important man here, but could give me no date, no time.

So they knew. And teased, as was evident. But I supposed it was my absolute belief in his arrival that held off any further questions. They thought me a complete romantic (they assumed the role he would play in my life would be as a boyfriend, I guessed). But then they saw how hard I studied, the volume and difficulty of books I brought for my waits, and concluded that I was both a hopeless romantic and heavyweight intellectual. "You're the whole package!" proclaimed Ben - an admiring waiter - one day. (I managed to reply with a thank you, then bolted.)

To be honest, I didn't know what I was. I had built myself an identity with my books, with my grace, with my visions. My hunger for knowledge was real; I loved to learn. But was I _smart_? I somehow got the feeling that a love for knowledge and understanding didn't exactly sum up to equal being truly smart. My grace was real; I loved to move. I danced, I ran, I swam. But this grace seemed more a gift in the package deal of being a vampire. True, I was a great deal more graceful than the other handful of vampires I'd encountered, but perhaps they were simply on the clumsy end of things. Knowing where I wanted to go and how to get there didn't exactly class me as the best mover.

Now I was led to the tricky part: my visions. My visions weren't even always real. Yet, they somehow were an important part of me. Were they simply a sharp sense of intuition? Perhaps even a wild imagination? Did this make me instinctive or creative?

_What was I?_

I had no answers. All I knew was that the visions came and I went along with them, doing whatever I could under the circumstances. Like so much in life, you made do with what you had, and rode it out.

-

"The basic concept of immunization is introducing a weakened form of the virus or bacteria into the body," Professor Lambert was saying, "and letting the immune system fight it. Now, read the chapter on the immune system, and don't just take the textbook's word for it. The text is written from a traditional point of view, remember! Try to give your _own_ slant to it. Dismissed."

After the occasional student clapped for the Professor, the class filed out of the hall.

"Professor!" I leapt down the stairs towards the blackboard.

"Alice, goodness! Slow down, you'll break your legs," he warned.

I just smiled because he said this everyday after lecture when I bounded down towards him. "Professor, do you think that'd work?"

"Work for what?"

"Do you think... that introducing a weakened form of whatever causes polio... do you think it would result in a vaccine for polio?"

"That may very well be the case," he responded, face thoughtful. "We've determined that polio is caused by a virus. But we can't develop this vaccine so easily. I have colleagues across the country, at several universities, working on a vaccine. And, of course, we have several who are working on a cure."

"Will a treatment ever be discovered? It affects the nerves..."

His face darkened, a bad sign from the professor. He was usually so optimistic. "It's doubtful. Nerves are very fussy things," he gave a hopeless smile.

A silence fell between us, this dark information a heavy weight on our shoulders.

But then he was speaking again. "That's why we have to focus on prevention. We can't just react, you see. We've advanced so far in the past fifty years that it makes me believe that we can advance even further. We can do it, Alice." He smiled then, proto-laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. Still, I saw the despair in his eyes.

I bit my lip, unsure of what to do next. I fought my instincts to refrain from touching any human, placing my palm overtop of his forearm. "We can. If not a cure, then something else. Something that eases the pain."

He nodded. "Thank you."

I paused a moment, then picked up my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and left.

On the way out, I thought of what the professor's niece must look like. She must be adorable, perhaps with the same auburn hair and honest blue eyes. He had told me two days ago that she'd been diagnosed with polio, joining the thousands of children already affected.

As a vampire, I was not susceptible to the myriad of diseases and infections that humans were. But still, I felt the desire to help. To do something.

I took a left, making my way towards the professor's office. I slipped a note under his door. On it, I proposed that scientists should examine the bodies of survivors, see what it was that had made them strong enough to survive. I left the note unsigned.

As much as I would have loved to work in a lab, cracking mysteries and discovering cures, I knew that that was not where my fate lay. No, my future seemed strongly tied to the man from my visions, and that was where I would go. Besides, I had seen a breakthrough was to come - focused as I was on the issue, my visions finally relented and shown me a colleague of the professor's coming closer than ever before to a vaccine.

So now I headed to the diner, watching the sky above. A wonderful cloak of gray was brewing. Today may be the day.

For the past few years, I'd seen him alone, not with the companions he used to have. I couldn't guess why he'd leave them, but he'd left without incident. He did not move like he was being pursued. In fact, he seemed almost lethargic, his sadness from the war unimproved upon. He was miserable. Everytime I thought of this, a lump rose in my throat. I had to help him.

But could I? Set a vaccine for polio into motion, sure. But help a vampire bogged down by years of sadness? I didn't know if I could tackle that. I still felt uncomplete myself. Could I help another being on such a level?

I pushed the door to the diner open and took a seat on the very stool I sat upon in my vision. When Ben asked me what I wanted, I told him I'd decide later.

I sat there for the better part of the afternoon, just sitting and asking myself: could I help him? Could I? Could I?

Distantly, the door swung shut, the glass rattling as usual. But then the smell hit me like a brick wall: the scent of a vampire.

I whirled on the stool, seeing him there. Not a vision. The real thing.

And when I saw his face I knew the answer - could I help him?

Yes.


End file.
